A little poem about Faith
If God were not exactly as you are absolutely sure He is,
Man might be as hogs are.
Snorting and grunting at the trough,
Backing away only when nothing is left.
Belching and farting as if in praise,
Content to roll in filth.
And when He comes to lead them to slaughter,
It must be great comfort knowing heaven awaits.
If there are no gods, where do those voices in my head come from?